


Prelude to a Dream

by EpiKatt



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, i cannot stop, i need to stop making sickfics, slight introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29103456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpiKatt/pseuds/EpiKatt
Summary: James with his old world immune system comes down with the flu and Danse scrambles to the Railroad to help him.
Relationships: Paladin Danse/Male Sole Survivor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Prelude to a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop writing sickfics. It's a problem.  
> I'm back in the fallout fandom! Been over a year and it's a different ship but woo. Dunno how many fics I'll have for them, and I still haven't beaten 3 and NV, so idk. We'll see lolol.
> 
> Title from steam powered giraffe.

Thinking about the family he’d set up in the Harbormaster hotel after clearing the raiders and… the significant amount of gore and drugs, were settling in fine, and James was pleased to see that they were doing alright. He was a little worried about their youngest, as he was sick when James and Danse arrived, but by the second day of helping around, he was on the mend. Danse had commented that he was very small for his age of eight, but the parents just said he got sick often.

Walking up north, closer to Goodneighbor, and with the cold fucking mud seeping through his shoes, James felt like shit. Danse seemed unaffected, his boots apparently able to withstand the mud inside James’, and damn, James couldn’t get over a power armor-less Danse. 

The cold was starting to get to him, James felt, when his shivering picked up but he felt warmer. He was a little concerned, but not overtly. He didn’t think Danse had noticed his diminishing pace or his feverish face, but he had a feeling he’d noticed when Danse kept shooting worried looks in his direction. 

“Maybe we should stop for the night,” Danse suggested finally, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. Well, he’d figured it out.

James squinted at him, the wind making his eyes water, but he finally nodded. “We can stop at the Taphouse, we’re nearly there,” he called. Danse nodded back and they trudged their way toward the building in the near distance.

By the time they reached the dilapidated building, James was being dragged along by Danse while Danse kept his worries to himself.

“Here we go,” James heard Danse murmur as he was propped up against a beam further in the room. James just sighed and slumped down, body shuddering. 

Danse frowned down at him before slinging his bag aside and falling onto the ground beside James, scooting closer to offer his warmth. He may feel the cold, but not as acutely as James, and he certainly didn’t need mind as much. 

“Jesus fuck I feel like shit,” James muttered, teeth chattering loudly. Danse hummed and just tucked James closer. 

“Hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning,” Danse murmured. 

“Me too,” James replied. “Fuckin’ sucks…” he said before trailing off as another bout of shivers hit him. 

Danse wasn’t surprised when James eventually dozed off, still shivering and teeth still chattering. He stayed up through the night, not daring to light a fire due to the fact he knew there was raider activity nearby and they weren’t equipped to handle a fight currently. 

When James stopped shivering near dawn, Danse thought he was finally getting better, but he felt his forehead and flinched back. He was far, far too warm. His hair was soaking wet with sweat, and his face was damp and red. 

He had no idea what to do. He’d never been sick before, which honestly should have tipped him off before, but he had no idea how to help or what was wrong. Goodneighbor was out, the path in the city was far too dangerous with all the super mutant activity, even after they’d cleared it. They always seemed to come back. Danse swallowed. That left the Railroad. He’d never been, but James had talked about it enough he knew where it was. 

Danse waited impatiently for the sun to rise before he put his bag on James and picked him up, putting him in a fireman’s carry with his free hand holding a pistol. 

The walk there was rather uneventful, and Danse only had to put down a few dogs that got too close. What worried him most was the fact that James was silent the whole way. The man was almost always making some kind of noise, be it humming or mindless chatter, or really just existing in general, there was always some sort of noise coming from him. The silence was disconcerting. 

And honestly, Danse wasn’t looking forward to being inside the Railroad headquarters. Up until recently, his main goal had been to demolish their faction and spit on everything it stood for. Realizing he was one of the things he despised made for a point of view change, but it didn’t quite erase ingrained prejudices. But James was sick, and Danse could suck up his own feelings for a bit, he’d done it often enough when he didn’t agree with orders. 

The thought of the Brotherhood made him flinch and his mind skittered away from that path. He wasn’t quite ready to go there yet.

Reaching the church that housed the “secret” organisation around noon, he hesitated at its door. A shudder and muted groan from James steeled his resolve and he resituated the man on his shoulder for appearances sake and opened the door, stepping in.

The gray light filtering through the holes in the ceiling and catching the dust in its light is what Danse first noticed. He frowned a little and peered around, making sure there weren’t any ghouls hiding behind the pews. 

Now he had to find the entrance, which James had neglected to tell him in all his stories about the place. Thankfully, the room he turned into seemed to be the right place and into the catacombs he went, pistol at the ready just in case.

Other than the soaking cold water beginning to seep through even his boots, Danse found the walk uneventful, and he was thankful that the ghouls that he knew were once down here’s bodies were disposed of, so the smell of them decomposing wasn’t cloying the chamber.

Slowly making his way through, he finally found the entrance and walked in, surprised to find three unfamiliar faces staring down at him. 

“Paladin Danse and.. Charmer. More specifically, though, why are you here, Danse, and why is one of our agents over your shoulder?” said the woman in the middle coldly. James shifted a little at his name and Danse readjusted him unconsciously.

“He’s very sick and I didn’t know where else to take him that was nearby and safe,” Danse replied, voice wary.

“And we’re just supposed to take the word of a Paladin of the Brotherhood?” said the same woman.

Danse flinched a little and swallowed. “You didn’t hear?”

The woman frowned and crossed her arms. “Hear what?”

This time, the man on her left spoke. “Oh yeah, you must be the Paladin they kicked out. DIdn’t hear a name, just the rank,” he said, shrugging a little when the woman turned to glare at him.

“And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?” she demanded.

The man shrugged again. “Forgot,” was all he said.

She sighed and turned back to Danse. “Mind telling us  _ why  _ you were booted from those bastards, since Deacon doesn’t seem to know either?”

Danse frowned, unsure, but quickly realized that if he just told them, they’d be allowed in faster and James could get help. He could feel how absurdly warm he was even through the layers of damp clothes.

“I… was kicked out for treason. For being a.. For being a synth,” he said awkwardly, which has become a rather new tone since he met James.

There was silence for a moment before the woman spoke again. “Not what I was expecting, but alright. Come on in, take him over to Carrington, the only one wearing white,” she said, turning around and walking in, with Deacon on her heels, but the second woman stayed behind and eyed him as he approached the steps and climbed up.

“I bet you hate being a synth,” she said suddenly just as he was about to pass her. He stopped and turned his head toward her. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, considering you were Brotherhood, and then found out a synth, you must hate it.”

Did he? Sometimes, yeah, especially at first, but James and his friends in Sanctuary have been pretty good at getting him out of that mindspace, but he still didn’t like the fact that he was a synth. That now he had to think of them as people simply because he was told to think of himself as a person.

“Sometimes. Why are you asking?”

“Man of few words, I like that. I’m  _ asking  _ because I just so happen to be a synth too, and it’s interesting to see one from the Brotherhood,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

Danse raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t even suspect her of being a synth, but upon closer look he could see some of his own traits in her that were easily looked over. The stiff set of her shoulders, the calculated look she was giving him, the way her stature was perfect even while holding a massive minigun. 

“Can’t say I was pleased when I found out. Now, can I get through? He needs help.”

She nodded her head toward the entrance and followed him in when he made his way through. He quickly spotted Carrington and went over to him. “He’s sick and needs help.” he said bluntly, forcing himself into the doctor’s field of vision.

The doctor sighed audibly and looked up at Danse with tired eyes. “Set him on that bed, I’ll take a look,” he said, jutting his chin toward the nearest bed against the wall behind him. Danse nodded and walked over and gently set James down, who mumbled something under his breath and frowned, shivering a little.

He stepped back as the doctor came over and crouched down, checking his vitals and temperature with the kind of ease and muscle memory that came with time.

After a few minutes, Carrington stood back up with a groan and turned to Danse. “He’s got a bad case of the flu. Been around anyone sick?”

“There was a kid at the last settlement,” he said, thinking back. “Will he be okay?”

“Yeah he’ll be fine in a few days, I’ll set you guys up in the back so he can sweat this out alone. Keep him hydrated, feed him occasionally, he’ll be fine by the end of the week,” he instructed, turning and slumping back into his chair.

“Er. Where is the back?” Danse asked hesitantly.

“See that empty doorway over there? Go back there and you’ll see it,” Carrington said. “Now go, I don’t want to be exposed anymore than I already have been.”

Danse sighed and gently pickled James up and walked toward where Carrington mentioned, easily finding the small storage room with a mattress on the floor. He set James back down and stripped him down to his underwear, as his clothes were still wet, and grabbed a still-dry blanket from his backpack, draping it over the man. And so began his vigil.

The next two days were filled with Danse sitting beside James and offering what comfort he could while forcing water down his throat, and sometimes old mashed tatoes. On the third day, he was a little more aware, and managed to open his eyes when Danse gave him some water, but promptly fell asleep again. 

That continued for another two days before Danse woke up from a brief nap and went to grab some more purified water, and came back to see James awake and sitting up while looking confused.

Danse quickly sat on the floor next to him and handed over the water, which James took with slightly shaky hands and drank. Once he was finished, he set it down and leaned into Danse tiredly.

“How did we get to the Railroad?” he asked roughly.

“Carried you here when you wouldn’t wake up. Only place I could think of that was safe to carry to you. The doctor said you had the flu and to give you a lot of water, which is what I’ve been doing.”

James hummed and tucked his face into Danse’s neck, the beginnings of a beard poking Danse a little, but he didn’t mind. James was okay. His fever was broken and he was cognizant. He couldn’t help but put his arm over James’ shoulders and just hold him to prove he was there. James didn’t complain, and soon fell back asleep.

James insisted on leaving the next day, wanting to get back to Sanctuary and make sure everything was fine. Danse only relented because once they got there, James could have a proper bed in his own house, and that Carrington had given him the all clear as long as they were careful. When they left, he got another long look from Glory that he didn’t have the time or energy to decipher, before they were gone.

The next evening, they were back in Sanctuary and in bed, and James was pressed against Danse’s side while Danse ran his fingers through the other man’s hair quietly.

He couldn’t help but think about the pressing threat of the Institute, and which side they were going to stick with, since Danse knew James wasn’t very fond of the Brotherhood, but really just fond of him. Danse couldn’t help but be smug about being the exception.

“Stop thinking, I know you’re tired from taking care of me the past few days. Sleep. We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow,” James muttered, curling up a little more against Danse, sucking up his body heat, as the room was slightly chilly. 

Danse hummed softly and slid down under the covers, pressed up against James more completely. 

“Goodnight,” he rumbled. 

He got a garbled mutter in response and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Gonna try and write more but idk if I will. Leave a kudos or a comment, they sustain me.


End file.
